She looked stern and a bit rigid by the way she stood, the fine lines of makeup painted along her face and there was a sheen bouncing off the top of her slicked hair, finished with an elegant knot on the top of her head. For a Sunday, she was dressed as if she was ready to host an art show.
"I was fascinated by the painting in your window," I told her.
She looked pleased by my response. "Oh, yes, that is one of our finest pieces. The artist is a rare gem, or that’s what we call her, anyway."
"Amelia, you know her well?"
"Not exactly, but it sounds like you might?"
It wasn’t the answer I was hoping to hear. "I’m not sure. Is the artist Amelia Baylin?"
"Yes, sir, that is what the B stands for."
She was alive. It was her.
"Do you know anything about her?" I asked again, even though she didn’t seem to know much the first time I asked.
"I do believe she’s local here in the city, but that’s all I know."
"We were once friends," I explained. "It’s been a while since I have seen her." Friends, lovers, or the love of my life. I could refer to her in so many ways, but after the length of time we had been apart, I couldn't refer to her as much more than an old friend.
"I see, well you are lucky to have known her," she said. "Are you big into the arts?"
"Oh yes," I lied. "It is my passion in life."
"Is it now?" she asked, folding her arms over her high-collared white blouse.
"Very much so, and I happened to notice your hiring sign. Is there a position still available?"
The woman glanced across the show window at the sign. "Hold on just a moment," she said, pointing her finger up in the air. She stepped back into the gallery and returned, holding the sign in her hand. "Any old friend of Amelia Baylin’s would make for a fine employee here."
"Just like that?" I asked, surprised that she was so willing to hire me after just speaking for a few moments.
"A person needs to have a passion for art to work here, and I would be lying if I said the applicant list was a mile long. In truth, we have not had one applicant since I hung the sign last week."
"I would feel honored," I told her while trying to be subtle about glancing past her to Amelia’s painting.
"That’s wonderful. And your name?"
"Charlie Crane, ma’am," I reached my hand out to shake hers.
"I am Elizabeth Monterey," she replied. "And I imagine you must have quite a story about your other arm." Her gaze fell to my left shoulder. "I’m looking forward to getting to know you more, Charlie Crane. Does nine o’clock tomorrow morning work for you?"
I smiled and dipped my head. "Yes, ma’am. I will be here."
I wasn’t a fool to think my problems could disappear overnight, but something told me I was in the right place at the right time for a change.
Chapter 34
Current Day
"Wow," Emma said, her elbows pressed into her knees, and her head propped up on her fists, staring at me with intent.
"Charlie," Amelia croaks. "My heart—you were in so much pain because of me."
"I couldn't give up. I couldn't," I tell her.
"And that's why I'm still here, too," Amelia says.
